


Loganthology

by bluestargirl6 (pressdbtwnpages)



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-23
Updated: 2005-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-04 14:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressdbtwnpages/pseuds/bluestargirl6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Logan-centric ficlets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loganthology

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through 2x4. Some language and sexual references.

**Spunk:**

Veronica bounces into the room and grins at him lounging on the bed. "Okay, lets make out now!"

Logan laughs hesitantly and sits up.

Veronica glances over her shoulder. "Oh come on. I wasn't followed, I checked!"

She tugs Logan until he stands and greets him with an enthusiastic kiss.

He laughs against her mouth. "Someone's in a good mood."

"Mmm," Veronica presses closer, knocking Logan back to the bed in the process.

"Why'd you make me get up if we were just going to get down?" Logan chuckles, tugging at Veronica's waist.

"Why are you talking?" She wants to know, straddling him.

"I have no idea," he murmurs pulling her down on top of him.

 

**Broken:**

Logan goes to Veronica because that's just where you go when shit gets bad.

You go to Veronica and you call her a white-trash whore, or break down in her arms, or kiss her senseless, or lay bloody in her lap. Then again, maybe that's just him.

Him and his crazy living-life-on-the-edge death-wish.

He and Veronica are each other's mutually assured destruction. They are both broken with big jagged messy edges. His are significantly larger than hers, but then Lilly always claimed size didn't matter. They are both broken enough to inflict damage, so that whenever they touch, one or both of them gets stabbed with the other's sharp edges. Its happened over and over again and you'd think they would have learned by now to stay away. But it feels so good before they bleed.

They are two broken people lying together and they won't be whole in the morning. They might not be any less alone. But for now they are two hearts beating, four strong arms and tangled legs and Logan thinks he might get some sleep tonight after all.

And then there is a knock at the door and it's all shot to hell. Again.

 

**Pastel:**

Veronica feels like a cardboard cutout of herself.

She went back to the way things were, and, frankly, Logan hates the way they were. All pastel and cottony and salt rubbed in old wounds.

It's a vicious cycle that they can't escape. Logan wants out, but he wants out with Veronica. He wants his spunky make-out buddy back. He wants to quit playing the role of Duncan.

So when Dick shows up with a can of gasoline and a plan, Logan says yes because Duncan wouldn't have.

Logan's got a delicate petal of a girl on his arm and no idea what to do with delicate petals. He dated Lilly, he dated Veronica. The real one, not this tired ghost.

He tried, he really tried to be good for her, to protect her and be a good boyfriend. And she's still sitting in front of him, sympathy in her eyes. He knows what she's going to say before she says it, and he feels like himself for the first time in months. He feels angry.

He remembers Lilly, sitting at lunch and picking daisies off the bush behind her. She pulled off the petals one by one while pouting seductively at him, "he loves me, he loves me not."

Logan knows now exactly what to do with delicate flowers. Tear them up and stomp on them, before they have time to turn up unexpected thorns.

 

**Suicidal Tendencies:**

It's not like Logan hasn't thought about it, since. Hasn't turned his lighter over and over in his hand and envisioned his own blaze of glory.

If Logan were to really commit suicide it would big, it would be bold, it would be planned. A giant bonfire, the beams towering over his head, tinder at his feet. He would soak the wood in gasoline, so that all he'd have to do once he got into position is drop the lighter.

Logan wonders if the lighter would melt. If the fire that destroyed him could destroy metal. It would kind of suck for a chunk of steel to survive what he couldn't. So Logan puts the lighter away.

The Coronado Bridge? So passé. Logan doesn't need to follow in his mother's footsteps, won't share her suicidal tendencies.

Hell, it's not even that tempting. Logan likes his life. It's never been easy, he's never made it easy.

If a chunk of metal can survive, so can he.

**Sexpert:**

Logan's had a lot of sex. Well, considering he's only 17 and he's really only been having sex for a couple of years. But he's had plenty of experiences. He's dated Lilly for fuck's sake. So Logan's experience probably rivals the average forty year old. The average forty year old exhibitionist. The average highly flexible forty year old exhibitionist. The average not claustrophobic highly flexible forty year old exhibitionist.

Logan's seen ceilings where it's never occurred to anyone to look. Much less look at with a horny blond bouncing on top of them.

Logan's been in so many positions he used to fantasize about the missionary.

But, considering that, he's kind of a sap when it comes to sex. He lost his virginity to an older, experienced girl, Lilly. And it had only been Lilly until she died. Except when they broke up. And that wasn't sex sex, that was friends with benefits. And Lilly died and there was Caitlin, fawning over him, clutching his arm with wide teary eyes telling him that if she could do anything to help him through this troubling time… And it turned out she would do anything. With anyone.

It's conditioning, a learned behavior. You have sex with girlfriends, they cheat on you. You have sex with people who aren't your girlfriend they can't cheat on you. You have sex with someone who's cheating for you, you get rid of a whole lot of issues.

**Accused And Accuser:**

Just once Logan would like to be accused of a crime that he's actually committed. That's part of why he went after Kendall. So that the next time he's charged with having an affair, he'll actually have had one.

If Logan's being fair, the blame started with Lilly and not with Veronica, girl most likely to accuse.

Or before that, really, with his father looking for any excuse to beat the crap out of him.

But being fair to Veronica Mars isn't high on Logan's list of enjoyable activities. He'd rather goad her, berate her, challenge her. Until another combination of foolish things collaborates to get him accused of yet another crime he has had absolutely nothing to do with.

Disturbing the peace? Hell yeah. Blowing up the community pool? Absolutely. Underage drinking? Uh-huh. Fucking his closest friends' step mother? Chain him up, officers and take him away!

Stealing Weevil's money? No. Raping Veronica? Definitely not. Killing Lilly? That's ridiculous. Killing Felix? More likely, but no.

Logan's innocent. Of more than people would expect.

**Chicken Shit:**

Logan's stopped walking into rooms.

Well, he hasn't, because obviously he has to get places. Being a shut-in isn't his style. And his house actually does have more than one room anyway. So.

But Logan's stopped walking into rooms. It's just… dangerous. Because he never quite knows where she'll be and when.

It's a lot easier to peek around corners. Because Logan never knows when he'll come back from a shower and Veronica will be standing in the middle of his sex-scented bedroom. And when you just rush into situations like those… things can get said. And your face can give you away. And it just, well, Logan Echolls' heart is mangled enough, thanks.

So he stops and looks and listens, McGruff would be so proud.

Logan feels like a pussy doing it, but coming out of a hotel room and having Veronica standing in the hallway… he's just glad the Neptune Grand has really long hallways. Because any closer to her and snide advice about sex wouldn't have been what came out of his mouth.

He doesn't know what the fuck is wrong with him. Or Veronica really. Whatever it is that makes him want to let her just destroy him. Makes him want to open his arms and say "Veronica… don't" with tears in his eyes.

So, okay, sneaking around, hiding in open doorways, it's a chicken shit thing to do. But at least when he loses his breath and his chest feels tight, because, goddamn it it should be her, she doesn't know.

If Veronica's going to go sneaking around, he's entitled to a few spare seconds to gather his weapons. To make sure his towel is riding lower than strictly necessary. So, yeah, it's chicken-shit. The whole thing really, but, hello, Logan Echolls, nice to meet you.

**A Parting Gesture:**

Logan's not much of a joiner these days. Not since he alienated his last two friends. Some how the novelty of being alone in a crowd of people is no longer so novel.

He'll be skipping the Lilly Kane memorial, lovingly and carefully planned by Celeste overseeing from Sonoma. Or Napa. Logan always gets those mixed up. Somewhere up north with grapes.

He's gonna leave the watercolor memories to the masses and pay his own loving tribute. His Lilly, well she's dead. In so many senses. It seems like she dies a little more every day, with each new unsavory accusation.

Logan's got a bottle of the very finest champagne, he's pretty sure it's supposed to be saved for his father's acquittal, but fuck that, Logan's taking it to Lilly's grave. It seems poetic, in that ironic, post-modern way that doesn't bore the crap out of him, toasting the victim with her murderer's champagne.

So Logan's going to get piss-ass drunk on champagne. It's been a long time since he was wasted on champagne, a few years, and depending on whether it makes him maudlin or mad, he'll probably break the bottle on Lilly's headstone. Bitch.

It's possible someone else will show up. Veronica maybe, or Duncan, someone who actually cared about Lilly more than a PowerPoint slideshow and cheesy speeches by people she didn't even like. Logan's not going to bring a spare glass in case someone happens by.

He doesn't bring band-aids either. Blood and champagne pooling in the carved letters L-I-L… it's apt.

And of course Veronica comes, and of course she's carrying lilies. Lilly hated lilies. Or, not hated, but she preferred other things. You'd think her best friend would know that, and Logan tells her so.

Veronica doesn't blink and tells him they were on sale.

Fifteen hundred dollar champagne and cheap ass flowers, it's very Lilly.

At only fifteen hundred dollars a bottle, Veronica says she thinks he's slumming it and studiously avoids noticing the blood trickling down his fingers.

He wipes his hands on the front of his shirt just to see her blanch.

She hopes he's not driving. He tells her it's only grape juice and she drags him to her car still grasping the broken bottle and bleeding all over the place and dives him home.

Veronica stops at the gate and Logan climbs the fence just for fun.

It wasn't a very successful memorial, he thinks. He hardly thought about Lilly, that traitorous bitch, at all. He thinks he'll have another memorial tomorrow, there's a decent Dom in the wine cellar.


End file.
